


After 01x09 (The Snow Job)

by PseudoLeigha



Series: (More) 2AM Conversations [9]
Category: Leverage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:39:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6524260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PseudoLeigha/pseuds/PseudoLeigha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Parker and Sophie discuss Nate's drinking. Take 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After 01x09 (The Snow Job)

Of all the people Sophie Devereaux expected to see in her living room when she returned home well after midnight, Parker wasn’t one of them. In hindsight, of course, it wasn’t really surprising that the thief knew where she lived or had the skills to enter her home, but honestly, she had thought she was getting somewhere with teaching the girl common courtesy.

“Parker,” she complained, “What _are_ you doing here?”

“Waiting. Obviously,” the blonde, previously lying with her head hanging off the couch and her feet on its back, reading a magazine upside-down, righted herself. “But now you’re here and I’m talking to you.”

“Why?”

“Well, because you said ‘Parker, what are you doing here,’ and I answered…” Sophie glared at her. She was certain the thief was having her on. It hadn’t taken long to realize that the younger woman often played up her lack of situational awareness, amusing herself and irritating the others to no end. She was fairly certain she had picked it up from Eliot, who liked to pretend he couldn’t even use a search engine whenever Hardison was in the room. Sure enough, Parker gave it up after a moment of silent scorn. “Oh, why am I waiting?” she asked innocently. “Because you weren’t here, and I didn’t want Hardison to know I was talking to you.”

Sophie suppressed the urge to slap her palm to her forehead. Holding a simple conversation was like pulling teeth with this girl! “What would you have done if I’d been with someone?” she wondered aloud, but waved away the question as rhetorical before the blank-eyed thief could say something incredibly embarrassing to both of them. “Why were you looking for me?” she asked instead, using her most exasperated tone.

“I need to talk to you.”

 _Obviously._ “What _about_ , dear?”

“Nate.”

“Ugh. _Nate_? What about Nate?” Sophie had just spent the last six hours, give or take a bit, flirting outrageously with pretty men (and pretty women), dancing and drinking with them, and trying to forget about _Nate_.

“I don’t like it when he drinks.”

“Well, what do you expect me to do about it? Do I look like his keeper?”

“Umm… yes?”

 _Damn it, Parker_ , Eliot’s voice muttered in the back of Sophie’s mind. “Well, I’m not,” she informed the young woman in front of her.

“Well, you should be,” Parker said quietly. “He listens to you.”

Sophie tried, hard, as she sat down next to the thief, to gather her wits. Explaining Nate and his issues to Parker would be a daunting task even if she were fully sober and had had days to prepare. “Listen,” she began, staring at her hands, “It’s complicated.”

“No,” the thief cut her off, surprisingly forcefully. When Sophie looked up, it was as though some other, much stronger woman was staring back at her through Parker’s eyes. “Eliot was right. Nate’s not in control anymore. It doesn’t matter that we won. It’s still a problem. If he starts giving away money again, I’m out. I… I like being on the team, and you and Hardison and Eliot, but I’m not going to let another drunk lead me around and screw me over and ruin my life. I… just can’t do that anymore. I won’t.”

“I – I’ll talk to him,” Sophie stuttered, taken aback. That might be, she thought, the most words she had ever heard Parker say at one time. Clearly she was serious about her concern. “I’ll… see what I can do. Alright?”

“Just fix it, Sophie,” Parker demanded, heading for the door. Her timing, Sophie had to admit, was impeccable, as she added, one hand on the knob, “I don’t want to have to leave.”

And then she was gone, without a backward glance. _Damn it,_ she cursed the younger woman silently. _Why does he have to be_ my _problem?_


End file.
